Bringing in the New Year with a Bang
by Nefret429
Summary: It's 2004, and a new League has been assembled to deal with a mysterious new threat, all leading up to a coupe-de-gra that involves the destruction of NYC on New Year's Eve. Please R & R!


My take on an overdone topic... I don't really own anybody I'm using here, except for the big villain and a character you'll see next chapter and any random goons/villains/etc. The first two chapters will mostly be the recruiting stage. Then we'll move into action and all that jazz.  
Oh, yeah, if you're not a fan of the dearly departed SciFi Original Series the Invisible Man, and Tremors: theSeries, or the movies,you might not get some of this. But never fear! I'll sum up at the end!  
Enjoy... Neffy

Special Agent James Bond stared at the computer screen in disbelief.

"If this is some kind of joke," he looked over at the dark figure in the shadows, "It isn't very amusing."

"This is no joke, 007," the figure responded, "I suppose you want a more complete explanation?"

"Please," the agent sat down at the terminal.

"A little over a century ago, a man named 'M' assembled a group of individuals to prevent a world war. As it turned out, the mysterious 'M', who came to them under the pretense that he was an agent of the British Secret Service, betrayed them; he sent them to fight a villain known as the Fantom. Unbeknownst the them, the Fantom was M. You might think the people who's files are on that terminal are strange, but none less than their predecessors. M formed the first League to gain their remarkable powers, but instead they did what they had set out to do in the first place: stop a world war and dispense with a madman. Quite a prerequisite, if I might say so myself. Yes, yes, I am getting to the point, 007. This group was called the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Now, the world has need of their services again. And, before you say it, I know they lived a century ago. I want you to lead a new League. Not without some help, though," the readout on the terminal screen changed, "The original League was made up of these individuals: Agent Thomas Sawyer, of the fledgling American Secret Service; Mrs. Wilhelmina Harker, a chemist; a mechanical scientist from India known only as Captain Nemo; a doctor by the name of Henry Jekyll; a thief named Rodney Skinner; Allan Quartermain, a game hunter; and, very briefly, as he was in league with M, a Mr. Dorian Gray."

"This IS a joke," Bond stared at his supervisor, "These people are fictional characters from English and American literature!"

"No," his superior corrected, "They are the historical truths behind those fictional characters from English and American literature."

"It's impossible."

"Perhaps you will change your mind in a moment. First, may I direct your attention to this member," the screen filled with the biography for the Harker woman. The photograph was an old portrait of a very beautiful young woman with long, strait dark hair and piercing eyes. Her lips were set in a thin, regal smile that was ever-so-slightly suggestive. But her stature was cold and distanced, and he found himself not wanting to meet her in a dark alley.

"Read her history."

"Married to Jonathan Harker, a London businessman. Last records go back to a trip to Transylvania. She supposedly died, but surfaced some years later. And she was one of Dracula's victims, from Bram Stoker's Dracula. Amazing book, by the by."

"Note her current status."

"Well, dead, I expect- No, alive and kicking, eh?" Bond laughed.

"Alive, at any rate," a voice came from a dark alcove. A tall, thin woman stepped out. Her hair was a tumble of dark curls that fell to her shoulders, and her eyes were a brilliant green, but he recognized the cold perfection of her face from the photo on the screen, "But not kicking anyone at the moment."

Bond stared.

"How...?" he was obviously stupefied, "You should be dead!"

"You can't get much more dead than I am," she smiled at him, "Well, I suppose you can, but that's entirely beside the point. Well, are you going to introduce yourself?"

"Oh, Bond, James Bond," he stuttered.

"Well, 'Bond, James Bond', it's nice to meet you. I am Mina Harker."

They shook hands and then Mina looked to Bond's supervisor.

"I suppose we should get going, then. I'll take charge until Mr. Bond gets his senses back. Where are we off to?"

"Ashbury. He's vacationing there with his friends."

Mina nodded and moved towards the exit.

Ashbury was a sleepy little village south of London, mostly countryside. The town itself was made up of small houses and shops, it's cobblestone streets crowded with tourists. Mina and Bond made their way through the village, looking for the address of their next member. Finally, they found the small, unassuming cottage at the edge of town and rang the doorbell. A tall young man in his late teens with extremely messy, red hair answered the door.

"Hi, can I help you?" he asked brightly.

"Yes, is Mr. Potter in?" Mina asked, "We need to talk to him."

"Um, you know Harry?" the boy asked hesitantly.

"Not personally," Bond said quickly, "But we really need to speak with him."

"Ron?" a voice came from behind the boy, "Who's there?"

"Who is here?" The boy, Ron, stared at them.

"Oh, we're with the British Secret Service," Mina pushed Bond out of the way, "Or he is, at any rate. We're not here to hurt your friend, we just want to talk with him."

Ron was obviously not very impressed, and Bond looked like he was going to explode.

"Do you know the definition of 'spy'?" he demanded, "Means that it's a secret. Thanks ever so for the EXPOSURE!"

"Can I help you?" a second young man, this one with dark brown hair and intelligent green eyes, somewhat magnified by a pair of glasses, asked.

"Harry Potter?" Mina asked, ignoring Bond.

"Yes."

"We need to talk to you. In private, if you wouldn't mind."

He nodded and opened the door for them. They went onto the back balcony. The Ron and a younger-looking girl with long brown hair followed, under Bond's disapproving glare.

"Don't worry," Harry assured the agent as his friends sat down, "They're trustworthy. So, what do you need my help with?"

"This may sound strange-" Bond began.

"Oh, yes, the wizard will be oh-so-shocked," Mina muttered under her breath.

"How do you know?" Harry looked surprised and alarmed.

"According to my superior, your Ministry of Magic made a deal with the government- they know about your world so it's easier to work out troubles. We aren't in league with... oh, what do you call him? You-Know-Who? Yes, well..."

"Perhaps we had better start at the beginning," Mina suggested, "I am Mina Harker, this is... well, what do you prefer? James Bond? Bond? Bond then. In any case-"

"Wait!" the girl, who had been introduced as Hermione Granger, exclaimed, "Harker? Like from Dracula?"

The two boys sighed.

"Here she goes!" Ron threw up his hands.

"She's been on a horror binge of late..." Harry explained sheepishly.

"No, Mina Harker is one of the characters in the novel!" Hermione told them, "Awfully strange, don't you think?"

"Well, Mr. Stoker did base his story on my life. Call it an interview with a vampire, if you will. He was quite interesting," Mina mused thoughtfully.

"But that would make you..." Hermione stared in amazement.

"Quite old, yes. And I am a vampire, if there was ever a good vampire. I suppose that's a bit of an oxymoron. In any case, I was once a member of a group known as the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Long ago, we stopped a madman from sparking a world war. Now a new threat, much like that madman is threatening world peace. We'd like your help."

"But..." Harry stammered, "I'm just a kid. What good would I be?"

"You've defeated one of the most evil forces in the magical world several times. I'd say that's quite the pre-requisite," Bond remarked.

"Alright. If I can help, I'd like to. But if anything happens to me, and you need help of the magical kind, Ron and Hermione are the best. Go to them."

Bond shrugged and Mina nodded in understanding.

"Always good to have a safety net. Well then, I believe we should be off," Mina stood.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked.

"America."

Perfection, Nevada

Burt Gummer stared at the SUV that pulled into the parking lot of Chang's Grocery. Tourists, he thought with a sigh. The group that approached the store was strange indeed: a young woman with short dark hair and green eyes, a boy of maybe eighteen that was probably her younger brother. Last came a tall man with brown hair in a tuxedo suit.

"Weird group," Tyler Reed commented from the counter, "Family, ya think?"

"No," Burt shook his head, "This is trouble. I just know it."

"Got Paranoia?" Nancy Sterngood asked Burt sweetly.

"Don't start with me, Sterngood. I'm in no mood."

"You're never in the mood."

"Look, a little paranoia isn't a bad thing-"

"Really, well, with you it's more than a little paranoia, Burt!"

"Oh, really-"

"Hey, guys!" Jodi Chang interrupted, "CUSTOMERS!"

"I'm sorry," the woman said with an English accent, "We need to speak with Burt Gummer?"

Burt stiffened suspiciously.

"Who are you people?" He asked harshly.

"My name is Mina Harker. This is... oh, alright, he doesn't want me to give out his name. Secret agents... And this is Harry Potter. We have a proposition for you."

"Hold on," Tyler held up a hand, "Mina Harker? Wasn't that a character in that Dracula book. And Harry Potter is a wizard from a children's book."

"And I suppose your agent James Bond?" Burt said sarcastically.

"Well..." Bond shrugged.

"You're kidding," Burt shook his head, "Okay, I gotta hear this."

California

The punch came out of nowhere, sending the thief sprawling on the ground. A short, balding man ran up and dragged the unconscious criminal towards a very ugly, very gold van parked on the curb.

"Great job," the short man grinned, "How 'bout we get some lunch after the cops pick this guy up?"

"Is that all you think about, Hobbes?" the responding voice came from nowhere. The van's back doors opened and closed, and were reopened by a tall, lanky man with bushy brown hair, "There's you're buddies at the FBI."

An hour later, when the thief was locked away in the van and his captors were finished being questioned by their nemesis's at the FBI, they got into the van and drove away.

Bobby Hobbes, the short man, was singing along to Ray Charles in his surprisingly high-pitched and off-key voice. His partner gave him a look. Darien Fawkes wasn't a jazz person. And even more unappealing to the ex-thief and current science project of a high-level government agency was hearing his partner wail along with it.

"Hey, Hobbes, could you maybe, oh I don't know, SHUT UP?"

"What?" the older man asked, clearly offended. HE thought his singing was pretty good for a forty-something government agent.

"That's it. For the good of everyone around us, not to mention my ultra-valuable brain, I'm banning you from singing along to jazz when I'm in the car."

Hobbes shrugged and changed the station to one that played holiday music 24-7 for the entire month of December, and proceeded to wail along to "Joy to the World". Forgetting the correct words, of course, since that would REALLY tick Fawkes off. The other agent moaned and covered his ears for the rest of the ride back to the Agency.

The last thing either of them expected to find when they got there were four very strange and familiar individuals waiting to convince Fawkes to risk life and limb to save the world. Any other day, Fawkes would have laughed. But seeing as the alternative was filing with Hobbes and Eberts (and a radio that Eberts always played Christmas music on during the holidays) he decided he'd rather risk getting killed then risk killing one of his coworkers in the QSM-like rage that was sure to follow having to listen to both of them for more than two minutes.

"League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, huh?" Fawkes mused as he followed the others out of the building, "Wasn't that a movie?"

Hope you enjoyed; For non-Imaniacs, Fawkes is a ex-con who got himself presented with a get-outta-jail-free card (his scientist brother Kevin wanted a guinea pig to test out his newest invention, the Quicksilver Gland). Now he's a government agent who, until the end of season, was chained to the Agency (a multi-purpose government establishment with no funding that's run by an anal fat guy and his whiney little bean counter Eberts) by something we like to call QSM (Quicksilver Madness) or Red-Eye Mambo, as Hobbes puts it.

Okay, onward bound!


End file.
